Christmas
by littledown7
Summary: A Harry/Ron. News comes that Hermione's been attacked, the boys have each other. Rated M for what may come not sure yet
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Unfortunately none of these characters, or anything to do with Harry Potter belongs to me.

This is my first story so I'd really appreciate reviews! I tried to keep to JK's style of writing, tell me what you think.

The fields surrounding The Burrow were thick with fresh snow. Winter was in full swing, giving Fred, George, Ginny, Ron and Harry pink faces and shivering hands. The last snowballs of the evening were getting pelted - and a sudden appearance of gnome gave everyone a common enemy. "Get him!" Fred shouted. The gnome, looking startlingly like a deer in headlights, was covered in layers of snow before he knew what had happened. Freezing and utterly terrified, he waddled away fast. "Nice shot, Ginny..." Ron said breathlessly. The snowball fight had lasted a good few hours. A light appeared from the bottom of the house, and a Mrs Weasly shaped shadow stood in the door. "Dinner everyone!". George pulled of his red wooly hat, which clashed delightfully with his hair. "Perfect, I'm starving!". As they trudged happily towards the house, were the smell of roast chicken and gravy was luring them anyway, laughs filled the air and talk of Christmas was rife. "Wouldn't it be nice if I woke up with a Firebolt at the end of my bed?" Ron asked dreamily, to no-one in particular. "Or a new Pygamy Puff! Albert's getting on a bit" Ginny piped up. "Who knows, George, maybe Zonko's will accept our offer..." Fred mused hopefully, as they shook off their snow-covered boots and, now extremely wet, coats and personalised Weasly jumpers. "I should hope not! Then you'd never come home!" said Mrs Weasly. Fred and George exchanged guilty looks, as their plans for the future didn't revolve much around The Burrow. "Well, everyone sit down then!". Mrs Weasly gestured haphazardly to the dinner table. Harry slumped into a chair near the chicken and an eager looking Ginny immediately appeared at his side. Harry shook his head subtly, and told himself she was just very hungry.

Mrs Weasly's dinner didn't last long - all the current residents of The Burrow being starving from a long, cold day. As the last remnants of the sticky toffee pudding were being polished off, everyone was tired, full of food, but having a very contented Christmas Eve. Mr Weasly made everyone an impressive hot chocolate, making a particular show of his magical skills in the kitchen (Mrs Weasly was looking skeptical). Cups with nearly a foot of whipped cream toppling precariously out of each of them were handed out. Then a noise like a car dying made everyone jump and look up. George, being the closest to the window - the source of the noise - opened it. He lifted out from the snow beneath it an owl which once may have been majestic and elegant, but now just looked exhausted and weather-beaten. Ginny was craning her neck to see, more than was necessary Harry thought, as he leaned out of her body's newly found presence practically on his lap. "Well what is it, George?" Mrs Weasly asked expectantly, as George's face fell.

"It's from St Mungo's" he said slowly, then continued to read the letter aloud.

"_To The Weasly family and Mr Potter,_

_We have received information that you are in regular correspondence with a Miss Hermione Granger. She and her parents have been taken into our care earlier this evening and are currently unconscious and unavailable for questioning. There has been an attack on Muggle borns in their area of residence and the Granger family appear to be under some sort of (possibly potion-induced) curse, causing a rare type of coma. We are currently working tirelessly on curing the Granger family and the other Muggle borns involved in the attacks. If you have any information on a possible source of these attack, please write back to schedule a confidential appointment with one of our staff. All your help is appreciated greatly._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Miranda Scibberas_

_Head of Personnel_"

No-one in the room was quite sure what to say. After a few silent minutes of everyone being lost in their own thoughts about the attack, Mr Weasly cleared his throat. "I'll erm, write back and tell St Mungo's that we don't need... an appointment" he said, staring out the window with furrowed brow and a look of annoyed concentration, as if he was racking his brain for any idea of why Death Eaters would target Hermione's town particularly. "Yes Arthur's right, dears" Mrs Weasly said smiling weakly "I think we should all go to bed. It's been a long day". She cast a sympathetic look at Ron and Harry, guessing they'd be up all night thinking about it. Neither boy had said anything on the matter. "Right then! I'll clear up dinner, off you go. Night Ginny, darling" she said, planting a kiss on her daughter's cheek. As Ginny left she turned to Harry and opened her mouth as if to speak, but apparently decided against it. Harry however, was looking at Ron, who shared his expression exactly, and didn't even notice.

Fred and George went up to their room talking quietly, leaving Mr and Mrs Weasly alone with Harry and Ron. The four were quite at a loss for what to say, so Harry and Ron climbed to the top of the house, where Ron's (and Harry's, for the holidays) room was. "Bloody hell" said Ron, flopping down onto his bed. "Yeah" said Harry, after a while. In those three words, the boys had expressed all they needed to express to each other. They understood each other's thoughts perfectly. Harry collapsed onto his bed and within minutes two sets of snores broke the silence of The Burrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Ron awoke some hours later to Harry thrashing in his bed. Ron squinted over to where Harry lay and, once his eyes had manipulated the darkness, saw a look of severe anguish on his friend's face. Ron couldn't bare to see Harry going through such a bad nightmare so he clambered over to Harry and nudged him awake. "Harry..." "Please, no..." "Harry, are you ok?" "Ron?" "Yeah it's me. You looked like you were having a really bad dream so I woke you. It looked terrible!" "I've had worse" Harry smiled vaguely as he put on his glasses. Neither of them particularly wanted to go back to sleep. Ron sat cross legged by Harry's bedside. In doing so, Harry noticed Ron's childish pajamas were showing a substantial amount of pale ankle. He smiled to himself, at Ron's lack of regard for things like that. Though on seeing his face, Ron wasn't radiating his normal contentment. He looked odd, Harry thought, illuminated strangely by the moonlight, his hair standing out in the bars of light falling through the window. After a while, Ron sighed and said "I know she'll be fine. St Mungo's are amazing at figuring out this kind of stuff, Dad's always singing their praises..." he trailed off, and Harry sensed Ron wasn't quite as care-free as he was trying to imply. "Look, I'm scared too" Harry said directly "what did you think I was dreaming about?". Ron looked at him with a slightly bemused expression, as if he was considering whether to believe Harry. He seemed to have decided to. "I just keep thinking about what would happen if they don't know what's wrong, y'know? And then it's too late and then -" "Ron you're being ridiculous. They already know what it is, they said in the letter, they'll have all the Muggle borns out soon. If Madame Pomfrey did it in our second year, then St Mungo's definitely can!" Ron looked as if he genuinely felt better. "Yeah you're right Harry. Hey do you reckon she'll be able to tell us who did it?! I mean obviously we have a fair idea, you know with the Death Eaters and all..." and at once Ron was as excited as anything. Harry gave a few noncommittal nods every now and then, but mostly just let Ron get all this out of his system.

After a while, Ron yawned, realising how tired he was. "I'm going back to back mate. I'm exhausted. Don't go having those dreams again Harry, you said it yourself, everything'll be alright. And even if it's not..." Ron stopped slowly, the thought of what life would be like if things weren't alright dawning on them both. For the first time that night, true fear showed in both their eyes. Harry scratched his head to break the stillness, and as his hand fell, it brushed against Ron's bare arm and came to rest touching Ron's hand, completely by accident. Their eyes met and it was a mark of their friendship that neither of them thought this to be weird. Their minds were elsewhere anyway, their faces reflecting what they were thinking about. A world where Death Eaters triumphed and Voldemort had his way. A world, in short, without their other best friend. Harry instinctively wrapped his fingers around Ron's hand, not just because it was Ron, but because it was someone to be near. Ron looked over at Harry, his skin looking paper white in the silver light of the moon. Ron, obviously unable to read Harry's mind, wasn't aware that Harry hadn't laced their hands together for that reason. He felt confused. For some reason, he felt himself moving closer to Harry, but he didn't quite know why.

His head was telling him that was what people did in a situation like this. Ron was now facing Harry, and he reached out his free hand to pat Harry on the shoulder in a comforting way. But again, for a reason Ron didn't understand or control, his hand changed direction halfway and he found his fingers delicately running down Harry's face and onto his neck. Harry didn't know what to think. He found his heart racing, the stillness and silence almost eerie. Something deep in Harry's mind had convinced his body to lean forward. He realised he had made it so Ron's face was inches from his. Ron's hand was still on the back of Harry's neck, and he did what felt natural. The last thing Harry remembered consciously doing was closing that tiny gap between him and Ron. He closed his eyes, and felt Ron's warm lips touch his gently. They lingered and Ron kissed Harry's back lightly. Unsure of anything that was happening, the two boys drew back slowly and looked at each other. Neither of them had ever thought about anything like this in their wildest dreams. But now it was happening, and neither of them knew why, but they didn't want it to end. All reason was gone from the situation, and as Ron drew nervously closer to Harry, his eyes dropped to the floor, but when he looked up he felt Harry's lips on his again as gently as before. Suddenly Ron didn't want to see anymore. He closed his eyes and soaked up the blackness. The events of the night had Ron feeling strangely vulnerable. He moved closer to Harry, drawn to the safe warmth of this body. He felt Harry's nervous hand at his shoulder, Ron moved into the curve of Harry's arm, allowing Harry to wrap his arms around Ron's back. He could feel his hot skin under his shirt. The boys had long since given up trying to work out what was happening. They fell backwards onto Harry's makeshift bed in a soft heap. They kissed each other desperately as Harry tugged Ron's shirt over his head, not bothering with any buttons. The thin fabric dragged upwards across his pale, smooth skin. The moonlight caught Ron's skin, making it look milkier and eerier, and making Harry need to kiss him more than ever. Suddenly Harry felt a wave of heat all over his body. He pulled his crisp shirt over his head. Harry's skin felt hot to Ron's nervous hands. The boys delicately held each other as they shared their soft, wet kiss.

Harry's hand found itself worming downwards from Ron's bony hips towards the waistband of his trousers. The papery fabric was tight between Ron's legs, Harry found with his fingertips. All of a sudden a slam from below sounded and the boys awkwardly sprang apart. Quick footsteps were ascending up Ron's staircase and Fred and George, burst in. "Oh good you're awake." George said, squinting. Ron didn't look amused. "Look what we just finalized! You remember Extendable Ears, right?! Well, now there's Extractable Eyes! You put these lenses in, here have a go-"

Ron let out a dramatic yawn. "Mate, tell us in the morning please" Harry looked down at his watch. 6.32am. "It is the morning Ron, though I doubt you've ever seen this hour..." Fred mused. The twins left the boys alone, exchanging ideas on marketing their new product. Harry and Ron got dressed and went down to breakfast, making a point of not walking too close together, Both already apprehensive about the day, and most certainly the night that lay ahead.


End file.
